


Where No One Knew Her Name

by earlymorningechoes



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-29
Updated: 2013-10-29
Packaged: 2017-12-30 20:16:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1022931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/earlymorningechoes/pseuds/earlymorningechoes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As the September following the Battle of Hogwarts rolls around, Hermione finds herself unable to remain in the small Wizarding community of Britain and finds herself travelling alone to America.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Where No One Knew Her Name

Hermione sat curled up in the train seat, her feet tucked under her and her forehead leaning on the window glass as the English countryside sped past. The book in her lap had a pleasantly familiar weight as she started off on this journey of unknowns, contrasting sharply with the physically negligible but emotionally enormous weight of the plane ticket that was tucked safely into her knapsack.

A thousand thoughts sped through her mind at once as she tried to avoid the thought that she was actually flying away from Britain for God knows how long. As rain started to tap against the window glass, she reached into the knapsack at her feet, pulling out a stack of letters bundled together. The outside of each envelope read simply “For Hermione,” each in a different handwriting, and the memory of how she’d gotten them flashed through her brain.

 _A knock sounded at the door as Hermione sat alone on her bed in Ginny’s room, the rapping jarring her out of her thoughts. Shoving_ The Guide to Wizarding America _under her pillow, she called out, “Come on in!” The door opened and shut quickly as Ginny slipped inside, a box cradled in her hands._

_Settling down next to the older girl, Ginny held out the small box. “For when you leave,” she said simply, giving no explanation for her statement._

_Hermione tried to deny it, tried to say Ginny must be mistaken, but the redhead shook her head firmly. Reaching under Hermione’s pillow, she pulled out the book hastily left there and shot the brunette a knowing look. Ignoring Hermione’s sheepish reply, she took the lid off the box between them and pulled out its contents._

The sheaf of letters had been smaller then, because Ginny hadn’t yet added her own, and some of the others had given her more, but it still held the same meaning. The observant redhead had gone around to each and every member of her family and whoever else would listen and gotten them to write letters for Hermione as she attempted to start off on her own journey.

Tears began to slide down her cheek as she slid her finger into the first of the already well-worn envelopes. This time the letter on top happened to be the one from Luna, the bright and shining letter from the girl Hermione had spent so much time judging. Reading over the words she’d nearly committed to memory, she attempted to keep her tears from smudging the ink as the light from the window dimmed as twilight arrived.

 -------------

Hermione was awoken from an uneasy doze by the crackling of the loudspeaker about her head. Struggling out the awkward position she’d curled into, she slipped her arms through the straps of her knapsack and headed down the center aisle.

Once the train shuddered to a stop at the station, Hermione disembarked in a stream of people, revelling for once in the feeling of being lost in an anonymous crowd where no one knew her name. As she emerged into the hustle and bustle of Heathrow Airport, winding her way to check in, she was struck again at the many differences between the Muggle and Wizarding worlds, both minute and massive.

No one she’d spoken to about her decision to leave had understood why she’d opted for Muggle transportation the whole way. She’d never before appreciated slowness, and learning how to Apparate had been such an accomplishment for her that sometimes even she wasn’t sure why she’d spent so much of her savings simply on getting places.

But as she moved through the masses of humanity all crowded into the same space on her way to her gate, Hermione was reminded again that she’d chosen this precisely for its somehow peaceful slowness. Even the crowd, which would have made her so nervous while still in the company of wizards because of the reminders of battle, felt therapeutic in its anonymity.

Gazing out the window, watching the plane sitting at the gate, Hermione searched the sky for familiar stars. Finding them obscured by the clouds over the city, she stood off to the side of the gate, waiting for the call to board.

Once it came, Hermione made her way into the claustrophobic metal tube, reaching into her knapsack to touch the reassuring worn wood of her wand as she maneuvered herself into the window seat of row 13. She’d never been on a plane before, as her family had never had any reason to leave the British Isles other than on short trips to France that had been taken by car and ferry, and the nineteen-year-old witch found herself suddenly struggling against a wall of nerves.

    Giggling nervously, she tried to steel her brain against the invading thoughts. _You’ve flown on a hippogriff, Hermione, why is flying in this so apparently different?_ Rolling her eyes, she sat back in her chair and listened intently to the safety proceedings as explained by the flight attendant, trying to ignore the apathy of the Muggles around her. As the plane taxied toward the runway and sped up, so fast Hermione was wedged backward into her seat, she gripped the armrests of her chair and began reciting the opening chapter to The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1: if she was stuck in this metal tube hurtling over the Atlantic Ocean, she was going to exercise her memory during the trip.

\------------

    Nine hours later, Hermione was jostled awake by the landing of the plane. Stretching as she unclipped her seatbelt and stood, reaching for her knapsack, she nearly knocked heads with the young woman next to her. Sitting back into her seat, the other girl glared at her own backpack, wedged tightly under the seat in front of her.

    “How on earth were you able to fit so little into your bag?” she asked, her American accent grating over Hermione’s ears and reminding her that she’d just landed in a country where everyone and their mother would comment on the way she talked.

    Shrugging, she finally pulled her bag out and shouldered it. “Good at packing, I guess,” she responded, watching as the aisle slowly cleared and the American girl was able to unstick her bag from its prison. Both girls made their way up into the airport and emerged into the milling crowd. Just before hurrying away, the other girl (who was quite a bit shorter than Hermione, she hadn’t noticed while sitting down), turned back.

    “Welcome to America!” she said, grinning, before turning on her heel and scurrying off into the crowd, her overlarge backpack giving her the look of a large turtle. Feeling a smile spread across her own face, Hermione melted into the crowd as well.

     _New York City_ , she thought, _center of the universe_. Eventually making her way to the street outside, she reached into the front pocket of her knapsack and fished out a neatly folded piece of paper, an address hastily copied from _The Guide to Wizarding America_ scribbled inside. Stepping up the the first taxi waiting in the line in front of her, she ran her fingers through her hair (bushier than normal as a result of being stuck on a plane for nine hours) and climbed inside. Handing the slip of paper to the driver, she settled into the seat and gazed out the window.

    “And we’re off,” she murmured to herself.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not entirely sure where I'm going with this, so it might end up being more than a one-shot, if people like it or have any ideas for me to continue with!


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